Witchborn:The Awakening
by LLN
Summary: Stiles alway knew he he was just a little different. As he comes into the legacy of his blood. He learns that to be Witchborn means to be Beloved of the Wolf.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Witchborn

Author: LLN

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Spoilers: Everything, nothing.

Disclaimer: MTV owns Teen Wolf

Summary: Stiles was always just a little different. As he comes in to the legacy of his blood he learns that to be Witchborn means being Beloved of the Wolf.

AN: ^^^ In Stiles head.

- Scene break

_**Bold Italics **_Visions of Rotkappchen's life.

AN2: I'm a visional writer. So if a familiar name from another TV show comes up that's why. And for my OC's…here's whom they resemble.

Scarlet: Emma stone

Golden: Amanda Seyfriend

Raven: Lucy-Lu

Rotkappchen: Olivia Munn

Gaston Argent: Chris Pine

Hale: Ian Somerhalder

Sasha: Jared Padalecki

* * *

Stiles frowned as he walked through the familiar forest. He could feel the warm breeze as it chilled his skin. In the back of his mind, Stiles knew something about this just wasn't right. The last couple of years since learning about that fact that werewolves are real Stiles had relearned these woods of the Preserve that surrounded the Hale House and land. Just so Derek would stop trying to lose him during the Pack's training.

_Still, he thought as he came to a clearing, something felt off…as if he was suppose to remember…no, had he forgot something? _

_In the clearing upon a very large tree stump sat a young woman. She was dressed in a white blouse with a course woolen skirt. Her hair was a bright scarlet that fell in almost perfect ringlets to her waist. Though it was her eyes that caught Stiles attention though, they were amber in color. The moonlight seemed to give them the glow like that of a beta werewolf. _

_But this woman was no wolf. Stiles knew that from some instinct, no, she was much more dangerous. An ancient power rolled off of her in waves, yet her expression was so sad. As if she had some knowledge of what was to come and knew she could not change it…_

_Stiles mother had got a similar look sometimes. She wore it a lot before she died._

"_Well met, young Witchborn." Her accent was a mix of heavy Russian and lilting Irish?_

"_I'm not witch. Just a normal human is me." Stiles told her he wanted no misunderstandings._

_The woman frowned sighing, "So, many think they are the same."_

"_Aren't they?" Stiles asked confused._

"_No, witches borrow power from nature or from the worship of the patron god or goddess. For their spells and rituals. Witchborn are magic of the purest form. The Witchborn are only bound by that which they can not imagine."_

"_That sounds frighteningly dangerous." He said absently as Stiles noticed slight movement among the underbrush to the left of them. That feeling of the world being slightly off was back and very thing was screaming danger…as a growl could be heard through out the clearing._

"_Do not fear the wolves for they will be your greatest allies. Beloved are we of the Wolf…"_

"_I am beloved of no wolf," Stiles said looking at her. In fact he was sure the Pack only tolerated him most days because of Scott and sometimes Derek. "I don't understand…"_

"_I know and I am sorry for that."_

"_Why are you sorry?"_

"_The power of the Witchborn comes at a price…one you have paid…"_

"_What price?" Stiles trailed off as the scarlet haired woman reached behind the stump she was sitting on pulling a dark blood red cloak around her. The growls got louder, when she pulled up the hood of the cloak over her hair as she graced him with that knowing look._

"_What has slept as been awakened…"_

"_But I'm not a sleep."_

"_Are you sure about that?" _

_The growls turned to mournful howls…_

* * *

Stiles came awake with a start. He wished he hadn't.

It hurt.

It hurt so much. Why did they…How could they…do…some thing like *that *. He would never forget their mockery of him, their laughter…they had thought him weak because he had been alone…Slowly he sat up looking around the familiar forest he knew so well. He grabbed on to the very large tree stump he was next to pulling himself up until he was sitting on it. He hissed had the sharp stabs of pain that hit him in various parts of his body all at once.

He was also naked?

Why was he naked?

Oh, yes, he remembered, for the humiliation factor. He could feel the cuts on his arms, and the slash wound on his throat bleed some before they finished healing, the skin knitting together painfully. His large red hoodie he saw was laying on the edge of the stump as if it had been carelessly thrown there. Looking down at himself he could see that he was covered in forest mud, grass, leaves and blood…he wondered if the blood was all his own.

As the flashes of memories returned to him, Stiles let out a long agonized scream of rage. Vengeance on those who had harmed him would be his! No, **longer would he be the prey**.

* * *

Sitting in the office of the Beacon County Police Station, Sheriff John Stilinski wondered just where he had gone wrong in the past few years with his son. What the mistakes were he made. He wondered why Stiles thought he had to lie to him. Because that was not the boy he raised, at least he thought that wasn't Stiles. John was tired of the lies and he was sure his son was as well. But until Stiles broke and told John the truth or until John stumbled upon it Stiles would be keeping his secrets.

It was not something John like. He didn't like it one bit. What he also knew was all the lies started with Derek Hale.

John didn't like the fact that in the last couple of years that his son's name had been linked with Hale's. Where one was the other wasn't far behind. He wondered just how stupid Stiles thought he was? John hadn't become Sheriff because of his looks (but he was sure they helped) he was smart enough to figure out that most of Stiles friends were involved in what was going on or knew about it. He wished he could lay all the blame on Hale but John knew his son well. If Stiles thought what he was doing was right or could help someone Stiles would do it and damn the consequences. Still John wondered where Derek Hale if into Stiles life. He had heard the concerned whispers of the busybodies of the town. The rumors were not flattering to Hale or Stiles.

John wished he could hate Hale, but every time he looked at the young man he saw the boy who had lost everything in one horrorable night.

Scott McCall also knew something. He was too much like his father not too. John knew that because he had seen how Scott had distanced himself from Stiles. When he had asked Melissa about the boy's friendship, she had claimed Scott was just busy with schoolwork and lacrosse. John never thought Melissa would lie to him like that. He knew it was a lie because he had seen Scott with Argent's daughter or Isaac Lehey around town.

If that wasn't enough there was the way Stiles acted around Chris Argent. Stiles was polite but couldn't or didn't try to hide(and John was sure it was the latter) his distaste for the man. John didn't trust the man himself there was just something about the weapons dealer John just could not bring himself to trust. John got the feeling bad things happen around the man.

Of course it didn't help that one night Stiles had told John some theories he had about the Hale fire. Or the fact there was just enough evidence to make the theory possible. If not for the question of why, Stiles said that Kate Argent had been in town around that time and that Hale had said he knew her. Derek Hale would have only been sixteen at the time and Kate Twenty-four. Stiles got a hard look to his face as he told John there were some things a boy that age could be doing with a very pretty woman things that the woman would know to be wrong. Things that could get her in a lot of trouble if other people were told, Stiles said that then retreated to his room for the night.

Derek Hale.

Kate Argent.

Equaled…a whole lot of not good in John's way of thinking.

So if Hale were a friend of Stiles it would explain the dislike his son had for Argent. Still John sighed leaning back in his chair. How had Stiles and Hale become friends? If they were even that.

Thinking about this now was not really helping anything. Not when he should be out there. But he knew he was to emotionally. That was why the Under Sheriff was the lead on this case. John closed his eyes, cursing softly. His son, his lively, smart, sarcastic, spastic, son had been reduced to a case file…a missing person's file.

Stiles jeep had been found at the entrance of the Preserve, which made sense, because the high school kids always held a bond fire a week before school started. Stiles had gone to it. They were going to search the Preserve today.

There were two people who would know that area. One Stiles seemed to hate and other John didn't trust. He stood up and walked out of his office. He really didn't want to ask Argent for help, but he didn't have a choice.

Time was running out. Stiles had been missing for three days already.

* * *

John wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. It hadn't been so warm when he, the deputies, and volunteers had started this morning. He called his son's name again. He heard others doing the same. He hated the echoes the forest caused; they made the voices sound menacing.

They hadn't found anything but the leftovers of the high schoolers bonfire.

'I should get the lot for littering…'John thought badly. Other than that nothing had been found and after five hours of searching the woods that was not a good thing. Something should have been found. Clothing…a phone or god forbid a body…but it would be some thing.

Chris Argent had been helpful once he understood what was going on. Argent had call in some of his hunting buddies to help too. John hadn't liked the look of some of them but was in no position to turn down help. Argent had also been trying to keep his hopes up. John thought that was because Stiles was the same age as his daughter and if something could happen to the Sheriff's son…

Argent told John what a good kid he thought Stiles was…John about called bullshit but caught himself in time. He had seen the two in the same room together once. Stiles ignored the man politely, while glaring under his lashes at Argent when the man wasn't look. Argent never once turned his back on Stiles while they were in the same room and when he spoke to Stiles there was a respectful tone to his voice. John sometimes wondered about that but decided in the end he was better off not knowing.

Yet when Argent said, "We'll find Stiles."

John believed the man had every intention of doing that.

"Hey!" An angry young male voice called out. John saw Derek Hale coming toward them. John wondered once again…Argent he noticed tightened his grip on his rifle.

"You don't belong here! It's private property." Hale all but growled.

John could see the sly expression cross Argent's face. And that answered the question if Argent led them on to Hale's land on purpose. John rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassed annoyance. The action caused Hale to freeze as he got a strange look on his face then Hale shook himself bodily in a way that reminded John of a dog. It didn't help that image any when Hale growled again as Argent spoke, "Sorry, we didn't know." John might have believed him if not of the smirk.

Yeah, John really didn't need this right now, "We're looking for a missing person. Their car was found just outside the Preserve."

"The Preserve is two hundred yards," Hale pointed behind the two older men, "back that way."

"But surly you won't mind us taking a look around," Argent asked in a persuasive way with an underlined threat that John didn't understand but it made him uncomfortable to hear. What if Stiles theories were based in fact? Well, this could get nasty if John let it.

"Mr. Argent, "Hale purred politely with a charming smile, "Unless the Sheriff here as deputized you? You aren't a part of the police and I have ever right to tell you to..." Hale voice dropped to a growl, "**get the hell off my land."**

Argent sent a deadly glare to Hale. John so didn't want to deal with there drama right now.

"**I'm a space cadet! I'm a space cadet!"**

Came blaring through the forest, Hale closed his eyes with a pained look as he took out his phone answering it by snarling, "What Scott," as he turned away from the other men.

"That's a fitting ring tone for the boy," Argent snickered. John just rolled his eyes. Scott was a nice kid…but thinking at times just was not his strong suit.

"What do you mean STILES IS MISSING!" Hale yelled, causing John to turn his attention back to the younger man, "For how long, Scott? Scott? SCOTT!" Hale was qiuet listening to whatever Scott had to say, "Here's what I want you to do…call the others…Yes, Jackson too! You and Isaac look at all the places he would go. Erica and Boyd can search the safe zones. Get Danny to find out what he can…Yes, Scott if I have too I'll do that again." Hale grimaced at that. "See Lydia can find out who Stiles was with…The high school bonfire was a couple of days ago see if he was with anyone there…What am I going to do?" Hale looked over his should at them, "I'm going to help the Sheriff look for Stiles."

Scott must have said something Hale didn't agree with causing the man to slam the phone shut suddenly, pocketing it as well. John had to admit he was impression with what he had hear, how he was getting all the information he could. John just wasn't sure he approved of whom he was using to get it.

"We really don't need other teenagers getting lost in the woods." John said harshly.

Hale shrugged, "With all due respect…"

John hated that phrase because when people used it they meant the opposite of that.

"But they know these woods as well as I do," Hale paused shooting a look at John, "Or as well as Stiles does."

"Stiles knows the woods?" Argent asked in surprise.

Hale nodded as Argent turned to John, "Stiles's mother use to bring him here when he was younger they use to spend hours here…"John trailed off it still hurt to speak of his late wife. " When I could I'd bring him but it wasn't the same for Stiles. He knows this place well enough to find some place safe if he's here."

"So, your saying if Stiles doesn't want to be found he won't be?"

John blinked at Argent's question. John hadn't though about it like that. Argent started in the same direction that would take them closer to Hale land but he stopped when Hale growled out, "Nothing back that way but the house, which you'll understand why I don't want you near it."

Argent hadn't like that by the look on his face. John though nodded turning back the way they came. After walking about a mile or so John started calling Stiles name. John noticed that every once in a while Hale would pause sniffing the air or cock his head to the side as if listening for something. John also noticed that Argent kept him between Hale and himself, as if he didn't want to get too close to the younger man. John wasn't sure if it was for Hale's benefit or his own.

Kate Argent

Sixteen

Derek Hale.

Did Chris Argent know something about that?

John shook his head. He'd think about that later…much later. About five miles from where they met up with Hale, the man's phone blared out, "**You killed Kenny! You bastards!"**

Hale muttered about Stiles and messing with his phone but answered with, "You better know something, Jackson."

John had to admit the ring tone was in bad taste but it was Stiles sense of humor. About two months after the Whitmore's had issued the restraining order they recalled it. Saying something about how boys will be boys. John just wondered how Stiles got a hold of Hales' phone and how well the man knew his son.

"What do you mean he 'might' have been there? You were there!" Hale said, and then listened, "Find out for sure! Someone had to see something! I don't know. Use your popularity for something useful. Everyone knows who's on first line even if they never go to the games." Hale paused again then yelled, "Jackson! Just find out who Stiles was with!" Hale hung up with a snarl looking like he really wanted to throw his phone at something. Five minutes later the 'Darth Vader' theme played out sounding very loud in the forest. "Yes, Uncle Peter?" Hale's voice was cold.

Peter Hale had reappeared looking in full health for someone who had spent the last seven years in a coma. He explained that when he woke up his nurse had convinced him that the people who had set the fire on the Hale house were after him too. Derek Hale had brought his uncle to the police station saying that he found his uncle in the Preserve hiding in an old hunting cabin his family owned. Peter claimed to have no memory of how he got there. Derek had not looked happy at the return of his uncle but said nothing to disclaim the man's story.

"Yes, I'm still with the Sheriff," Hale's eyes widened, "I'm not telling him that for you!" Hale hissed. "Do you know anything useful?" Hale listened, "Lydia said that? What about names? I'll tell the Sheriff that." Hale hung up his phone returning it to his pocket. Looking at John he said, "Stiles was at the bonfire."

John nodded he had given Stiles permission to go…now? Now he wished he hadn't.

"Peter said Lydia was told that Stiles was seen leaving with a girl and three other boys."

"Do you have names?" John asked because that would give them more to go on that just Stiles jeep which hadn't turned up anything useful…But caused John to have questions about some of the things that were found.

Hale shook his head, "Peter said Lydia was still trying to find out…"

"Don't you think it's odd that all those teenagers jump to do Hale's bidding?" Argent asked suddenly. Hale frowned. John thought he saw a worried look pass over the younger man's seemingly blank face.

"Right now? I would take help from the devil himself and not ask how he did it. I if helps find my son!" John bit out, was he worried about the seemingly easy ay Hale had control over his son's friend's? Well, yes, but right now he just wanted to find Stiles.

"Sheriff," Argent said, "You can't trust Hale."

John couldn't believe that man went there. This from a man who's wife's suicide was suspect at best if not for that hand written note. Still, who commits suicide by sword now a days? John just couldn't prove anything at this time.

Hale let out a mean laugh, "Your one to talk about trust. After what your family did to mine! What your sister did!" Hale snarled, " What your daughter did to my…"

"Shut up, Hale!"

"Hale stepped into Argent's space, "Your family started this…"

"ENOUGH!" John shouted. He was about ready to tell both men what he thought of their little family feud, and dear god if Stiles theories were right…

"**Little Red Ridding Hood…You sure are looking good…" **Hale yanked his phone out of his pocket so quickly he almost ended up dropping it, "**Your everything a Big Bad Wolf could want…"** Hale answered it on speaker and what he said next made the breath catch in John's throat.

"STILES!"


	2. Chapter 2

Wittchborn 2

Stiles knew he had to be in shock.

It was the only reason he could account for the cold, numb state he was in. Slowly he stood up, pulling on his hoodie. Thankfully it was the thick, oversized one rather than the small almost skin tight one he wore when in the mood to tease a certain werewolf. Derek always made the neatest face when he saw it. He zipped it up, grateful that it came down to mid thigh, covering all of his naked bits.

Stiles made his way out of the clearing taking care not to look behind him. Because if he did… Did his friends know? Was his Dad looking for him? Did they even care? Stiles mind skittered away from those thoughts. It was stating to get dark, he was sure he hated the woods with all the stones and sticks that hurt his feet. But they healed in moments…

Sometimes he could hear voices calling his name but he couldn't make his voice work to call back. They sounded like his Daddy or his pretty wolf… And if he did answer them how could he be sure it was really them?

The cold was getting heavy in the air and Stiles stuck his hands in his pockets. His left hand bumped into something small, metal, plastic, and square…his fingers closed around it and pulled it out. A sob escaped his lips…his CELL PHONE! Stiles frowned he was sure it had been in the pocket of his jeans? No, no! Don't think about that! He needed to call someone? Who? His Dad…No, he'd have to explain…No, just no.

Scott? Pfff… As if the boy ever answered if your name wasn't _Allison_. Stiles sighed looking up…

* * *

"Your back," he said as he caught sight of he long red-cloaked figure leaning against the tree across the way from him.

"We will always be with you, Legacy." She told him pushing down the hood of the cloak revealing long straight golden blonde hair, her eyes a tawny shade of brown. Stiles could see the light blue satin material of her dress peaking out from the red folds of the cloak.

"Why?"

Stiles wondered if she was a princess? The scarlet haired girl had been dressed in the clothes of a peasant.

She raised an eyebrow at him replying with, "Why not?" Her expression reminded him of Lydia's when Jackson would ask if they really had to watch the Notebook again.

"That! So, not helpful." Stiles muttered.

"Perhaps you didn't ask the right question?"

"What are you doing here? Why did THAT HAPPEN TO ME!" Stiles screamed the last that her. The blonde's expression was blank, "Why do I feel so…"

"Vengeful?"

Stiles nodded. Yes, that was it. That numb feeling it wasn't shock but the cold, rage of vengeance burning through him.

They had to pay. The ones who did this to him…

"The Witchborn are very special… And come into their powers in a unique way. What happened to you had to happen. It is a long and violent history we have…Ever since the first of our kind came into her power."

A low haunting howl could be heard in the distance.

"Wolves…" Stiles whispered to himself, "What do they have to do with this?"

Golden laughed coldly, but not harshly," Everything. Without the Wolf a Wichborn will lose themselves to their power…Nature has a strong sway on us but we are human and subject to human failings."

"What does that mean?" Stiles asked confused.

Golden pushed away from the tree slowly walking towards Stiles, he could hear the howls become louder and closer… "Imagine having unstoppable power, fueled by dark human emotions…like anger, hate…"

"…Revenge?" For the need for it was pounding throw Stiles veins.

"Revenge? Is not an emotion it's an act. The Witchborn become the Beloved of the Wolf was the result of such an act." She sighed, "But that is something you will learn later…"She was now in front of Stiles, she reached out a pale hand bringing his attention to the phone clutched in his hand when she touched it, "You must call your Wolf to you…"

Stiles knew what he had to do now. He looked down at his phone in confusion; he could hear it making a call. Stiles frowned, he didn't remember dialing, shrugging he brought it up to his ear.

He thought idly how he would make them pay… How they would all pay.

"STILES!"

Came the voice from the other end. Stiles could tell he was on speaker, he wondered who else was there…Stiles took a deep breath…

* * *

"A boy went in to the woods…"the shaky voice of Stiles came over the phone.

"Stiles!" John said but was ignored as Stiles continued to speak.

"He met humans in wolf skin…they are the most dangerous kind of human."

John shared a look with Argent, who seemed as confused by that as he was. Hale made a pained sound.

"The boy had met real wolves before and knew how to protect himself from them. But not from these fake wolves in human skin."

John wondered what was with the wolf metaphor? If Stiles was talking about real wolves or…

"Where are you, Stiles?" Hale rushed out.

"Derek? Are you with my Daddy? I thought I heard my Daddy?" Stiles said sounding confused.

"I'm here, son. With Derek and Chris Argent. We want to find you, help you." John told his son. He thought he heard Stiles say something about hunters, wolves and the dark forest.

Again? With the wolves, John wondered.

"Where are you?" Stiles said sounding clearer headed.

"In the woods." Hale growled.

"Describe where you are."

"Stiles… Son," John started but Hale spoke over him saying, "A clearing, why?"

"Is there a very large tree stump in the middle of it?"

"Yes." Said Hale.

"Look around you'll find it."

"What are we looking for?" Argent asked.

"Oh, I'm certain you'll know exactly what it is when you see it…" Stiles voice had taken on a singsong tone.

Slowly all three men looked around the clearing, John noticed that very so often that Hale would speak lowly in to the phone, but John could never make out what Hale was saying. It was Hale in the end that found it. The very clear marks as if something heavy had been dragged into the clearing and over to the stump. There was an area of disturbed dirt, about six feet in length and about three feet deep, that was slightly sunken in lower than the rest of the area around the stump that was in no way natural.

"It looks like something was buried here." Argent said softly giving voice to the thought no one wanted to speak or think about what it meant.

"Some of those marks around the area look strange…"Hale paused, "it looks as if something…dug its way out."

John came to the same horror filled conclusion at the same time the other men did. He didn't want to believe that something like that could happen to…

"…The worms crawl in…the worms crawl out…" Stiles sudden singing caused the men to shiver because the boy was sounding less sane by the minute.

"I have to call this in, "John said, "To find out what…or who…'

"That's right, Daddy! Do your job and make me proud."

The childish tilt to his son's voice was disturbing. But what about this whole hadn't been so far. "Stiles, can you tell me what happen?"

"Oh, No! Daddy that would spoil the surprise."

"Stiles, tell me where you are!" Hale said commanded. John knew that tone of voice would not work on his son. At least it didn't for John.

"Pretty-wolf?"

John wouldn't have thought a nickname could cause a man to blush like that. The young man had to have looked into a mirror once in a while. John knew Stiles thought Derek Hale was something to look at. If the way he stared at the man when they saw him in public was anything to go by.

"I called for you, my wolf…"came the hurt whisper, "To come and help me, save me. I screamed, begged for you…but you didn't come for me…and they laughed."

Hale whispered Stiles name in a broken tone. John knew that Hale cared deeply for his son. In what way wasn't clear only that Derek Hale did care. John wondered if he should be more worried about that?

"Every time you called I helped you, saved you, didn't I my wolf?"

"Stiles," Hale barely choked out, "please let me help you now."

A grunt came of the phone, "No, you can't. Not yet…Nothing can help me. Soon though."

"John, your not going to get much sense out of Stiles until you find him." Argent said.

"Chris!" Stiles squealed happily, "Are you hunting wolves again?"

"No, I'm helping your father look for you."

"Oh, So you're…" Stiles trailed off, "hunting me?"

John wondered at the dark note in his son's voice. He wasn't sure why Stiles would think Argent would hunt him like an animal but that was what Stiles was implying.

'No, I'm looking for you." Argent repeated. Stiles muttered about bad hunters, wolves and getting lost on the way to grandmother's house.

Hale must have understood what Stiles was getting at because he said, "You know Argent follow the Code." And yes John could hear the capital in he word code.

"Oh, please! Everyone knows the Code is more like…guidelines. You of all people should know that, Pretty-wolf."

John what code they were talking about and made sure to remember to ask Argent about it later. Hr might actually get a straight answer from him. When Stiles suddenly said, "I have to go bye-bye, now."

"Stiles!" John yelled worriedly.

"I'm being followed by the puppies, my wolf. Naughty, naughty... I have to take care of them. But it's okay, Daddy. You have my pretty-sour wolf to help you and a hunter to find me…" Then there was nothing but the dial tone.


	3. Chapter 3

Witchborn3

Isaac Lahey growled at Stiles. He wondered if he should be concerned that all Stiles was running around in _just_ an oversized red hoodie. It looked as if Stiles had also gotten beaten up. Scott had been worried when he realized he hadn't heard from Stiles since the night of the bonfire. That had been three days ago, in which the Pack realized none of them had heard from the boy. That was odd because even if they didn't see him he was always sending them texts.

Normally Isaac could say he liked Stiles…But not right now. No, right now if he could just get loose he'd…he wasn't getting loose any time soon. That was because the boy had ambushed Isaac and a tree had grabbed the werewolf.

Yes, a tree! He was good six feet off the ground, no less.

Isaac wasn't sure how Stiles did it. Maybe it was magic? Stiles had been studying with Deaton.

"Please let me down," Isaac asked pulling out the puppy eyes that Stiles had never been able to resist before. He wondered why Derek hadn't warned them that Stiles do shit like that. Did Derek even know? Isaac knew it had to be Stiles that moved the tree because trees don't move them themselves. Which was pretty cool, if you know, he wasn't _swing in the wind!_

"Hmm, let me think on that…"Stiles said tapping a finger against his chin.

"Alpha will find you!" Isaac said struggling in the branches.

"Of that, I have no doubt, Bro Thief."

_Bro Thief?_ Isaac wondered at the nickname but for long Stiles was still talking, "…ave the woods yet. Besides Sourwolf will show off all his wolfy coolness and find you soon enough. He'll have too," a dark look passed over Stiles face, "There are hunters in the Preserve."

What would Scott say? If he knew you did this? All I want to do is help you!" Isaac yelled. Scott McCall was the only person he could think of that might reach Stiles. Might get something other than that slightly spacey look Isaac got. It frightens him because Stiles had never acted like this before and they had been through a lot. Isaac didn't like this at all.

Stiles froze, "Scott?" The soft scorn Isaac heard surprised him, "I don't know why you think I care what _Scott McCall _thinks! **He ditched me for Allison!"** Stiles yelled, "I only went to the bonfire because _Scott _said he'd _be there!_" Stiles ranted.

Isaac's eye's widened, Okay, wrong subject, Isaac thought. He watched Stiles take some calming breaths. Like he was fighting off a panic attack. He had seen Stiles have one when they were younger, if had not been fun to watch.

Then Isaac heard Stiles mumble, "…goodbye…farewell…to you and you…"more to himself than to Isaac as Stiles walked away.

"Your just going to _leave me like this?"_

Stiles waved a hand over his shoulder, "Yep."

When Stiles was out of sight, Isaac sighed yanking on the branches harder.

* * *

Derek watched the Under Sheriff direct the deputies around the clearing. It was just a matter of time in order to find Stiles. At least they knew he was alive. He knew that as well as the Sheriff. The shallow grave that was a new problem, one that needed to be taken care of quickly if something supernatural crawled out of it. The deputies kept giving Derek _looks _as if he had been the one to have done something…

'_Thanks for that Scott…'_Derek thought as his phone blared out a familiar ring tone. Sighing he answered it, "Scott?" At the name the Sheriff paused in speaking with a deputy and looked at him.

"_I can't find Isaac."_

"What do you mean you can't find Isaac?"

"When we were about to leave and Allison said she didn't my help…Isaac told me to go with her! That it was okay."

"Scott, there are hunters in the woods, "Derek hissed, "Find him!"

"Can't you? Allison wants me to help her look for the people who were at the bonfire."

"Because I'm helping the Sheriff…" Derek pulled the phone away from his ear with a curse. That **brat** hung up on him!

The Sheriff walked over to him and said, "If you need to leave I understand." He knew the Lahey boy had been staying with Hale since the massacre at the station.

Derek didn't want to go. He wanted…he needed to find Stiles. To help Stiles but Isaac…"I should go find out what trouble he got himself into. Scott's worried for nothing most likely, Isaac just turned his phone off."

The Sheriff nodding walking off but Derek called out, "Sheriff!" the blond man turned to look at him, "Please let me know if you find him?"

The Sheriff gave Derek a long look, then said, "I will."

Derek nodded, turned running into the forest not seeing the worried look the man had.

* * *

"…I think my dad is going to put it together soon." Stiles said lightly as if he didn't have Erica tangled artfully up in vines at the side of a hill. It looked like something out of an anime porn. Not that he had seen much of that. No, really!

"Stiles? What is wrong with you?" Erica muttered, as she pulled on the vines they got tighter around her body they were also starting to crawl up to intimate places. Stiles state of dress bothered the blonde werewolf as well. Someone had hurt her Batman. He had fading bruises, his lip had a small cut, and more of the fading bruises on his legs.

Erica couldn't believe he got the drop on her in his state. She was supposed to be the badass she-wolf? A villainess vixen! A femme fatale! Where had she gone wrong? "Have you gone crazy?"

"Possibly? I hear resurrection can do that to a person." Stiles expression turned thoughtful, "Maybe I should ask Peter-wolf his thoughts on that?"

"That's…"the vines were moving again, "…wait? Resurrection?" The vines were starting to freak Erica out with how friendly they were getting. She hated Isaac and his anime collection for giving ideas in her head, surly Stiles…wouldn't?

"What else would you call digging out of your own grave?"

"_What?"_ Because who could… Do something like that to… To Stiles, no one should hurt her Batman! Erica looked, really looked into the boy's eyes, and she saw in them something that scared her. She saw same look that Peter Hale wore in them. As if the boy had been through hell…and kept going…because that all he_…they could do. _

"Anyone would be a little crazy for that alone but add in being beaten, threatened with rape and having my throat slit so I could bleed out in that grave they buried me in…"

Erica could see the jagged white scar on the boy's throat. If it was true and it looked to be her only question was, "_How?"_

"Imma special snowflake," Stiles muttered looking down at his bare toes, which flexed in the soft dirt of the forest floor. Suddenly his head shot up, he glanced behind him. He got close enough to her that she could smell the scents of others on him, "I gotta go, Catwoman. You might want to play the damsel in distress card. Bad things roam these woods, you know."

Erica watched as Stiles skipped away from her whistling a familiar Disney tune. She had to wonder if Stiles was going to be one of those bad things? Because these _goddamn vines would not stop moving!_

* * *

Chris Argent had left the Sheriff to his investigation of the clearing hours ago with the promise that if he found Stiles he would let John know. Argent knew hearing Stiles had done little to reassure the man, Stiles had not sounded mentally sure.

Chris had a few run ends with Stiles Stilinski. While he could not say he liked the boy, he could respect the stand the boy took, the loyalty he had shown Hale's Pack. Not for the first time he thought it was shame the boy sided with the animals. Stiles would have made a hunter to be rewreckon with. Whatever was going on with the boy was odd to say the least. If the blonde she-wolf's cursing of the boy's name was anything to go by, the wolves were in the dark as much as everyone else was about Stiles.

When he had told the she-wolf, after cutting her loose from the vines that she had been wrapped in poison ivy she began going over all the different ways she could kill Stiles. All he could do was laugh and tell the girl to get back to her Alpha before one of his other hunter's found her. The glare he received? Just made him laugh harder.

Stiles did make life in Beacon Hills interesting.

* * *

Stiles growled to himself as he hid in the underbrush from Argent's hunters. They had almost found him an hour after he left Erica. He could have swore he heard laughter on the wind…

Stiles never really liked the whole hunting for sport concept. For your food, yes, if you couldn't get to a store, that was understandable. But just for fun? No, Stiles didn't get that at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: WARNING! THERE IS RAPE AND MURDER AHEAD! IF YOU HAVE TRIGGERS PLEASE DON'T READ! AND IF YOU DO, PLEASE DON'T FLAME ME! YOU WERE WARNED!**

* * *

**AN:** Numbers are scene breaks.

* * *

Once Stiles was sure the hunters were gone he crawled out from the underbrush. It had been a close call. He had been sure one of the hunter's had seen his red hoodie. Stiles had just closed his eyes, whispering, "You can't see me…" over and over…the hunters walked right pat his hiding spot. He wasn't sure why that worked only really glad it did.

676

Stiles stood up with a grin that had been so neat! When he turned he saw a lovely older Japanese woman, if Stiles guessed the woman might be as older as his father or a little younger? Her hair raven black was in an upswept style held there with sliver chopsticks. The kimono she wore was bright red with ornate gold and silver snarling wolves decorating. Her eyes were the same amber/tawny color as the other women's had been.

"_You must see…"_

_Stiles turned, the forest he knew so well, became a strange and foreign place, the underbrush was denser, on the smaller tress thick sheets of moss hung from them. The trees were older, larger, almost blocking out the moon and star light…the scents of the forest were different too, cleaner? Wilder? _

_Stiles watched a figure of a girl in a white cloak, wearing a plain brown peasants dress under it. She was making her way deeper through the trees. Her hair was long, wavy and brown, the moonlight hit her heart-shaped face and Stiles could see her light amber brown eyes and small up turned nose. Stiles thought she was cute as a button. She was so what he would date her, if it weren't for a strawberry goddess and well a sourwolf. Stiles sighed shaking his head from those thoughts._

**222**

**She ran through the forest calling for Sasha. Lucy Argent had told her that Sasha wanted to talk to her in their favorite spot in the woods.**

'**He should be here,' she thought, as the clouds broke over the full moon it's light shinning down on her. When she got to the clearing she frowned. Why wasn't Sasha here? He should be here!**

**As she turned, stifling a scream of surprise when she bumped into a man. She clutched a hand to her chest saying, "Gaston! You frightened me! I was looking for Sasha he was suppose to meet me here."**

"**Your woodcutter's son is not coming, Rotkappchen," Gaston said, his green eyes were so cold, "I would guess that he is thoroughly bedding my sister right now."**

**Rotkappchen's eye's widened at the cruel words.**

**222**

Stiles frowned at the vision playing out before him. It was so strange like seeing a movie. Stiles looked at the woman next to him, she had a stoic expression as she stared blankly a head.

_222_

"**Did you really think you could refuse me so easily?"**

**Rotkappchen shook her head, she didn't understand why he was speaking like this to her. She backed away from him. The towns' leaders' oldest son, Gaston was thought to be the most handsome man in the small town. He had pursued every girl of age in town. He had never given Rotkappchen a second look before, a few weeks after Haleborne's last visit into town Gaston all of a sudden asked Rotkappchen's father for permission to court her, which her father gave much to Rotkappchen displeasure.**

"**How dare you refuse me? Me!"**

**Why was he so angry? She had never made it any secret about whom it was she preferred. Most of the town had thought Sasha was going to marry Rotkappchen that was until Lucy Argent had turned Sasha head. Everyone knew how Rotkappchen felt about Sasha. Why was Gaston so surprised she turned down his offer of marriage? It was Sasha she wanted as a husband, she didn't care that he was only a woodcutter's son.**

"**I'm a Argent! I could have any girl in town spreading her legs for me! What make's 'you' so special that you think you can refuse me!" He grabbed her by the by her upper arms pulling her to him, "Why do I want you so much! Your not even that pretty!" He screamed as he shook her, yelling other hurtful things about her lack of beauty and her unturned feelings of Sasha. She yanked herself away from him but her cloak tangled around her feet causing her to stumble hitting the ground hard.**

**Gaston gave her an ugly look, "If I can have you…"he motioned behind him, three male figures melted out of the shadows, men Rotkappchen knew as other sons from the other leading families of the town, Gaston's friends.**

" **Will make sure there's nothing left, Gaston," Avery, the son of the town's second in command said.**

"**That even the wolves would want." Cray, who was the son of the tavern owner said. **

"**Why are we hurting Rotkappchen?" Ian, son of the inn owner asked, "She's nice." **

**Gaston rolled his eyes, "Because she refused me. No one can do that."**

"**Oh!" Ian nodded. Ian was a bit slow.**

**Rotkappchen realized they were going to hurt her, she tried to get up and run but Gaston grabbed her by her cloak pulling her back to hit her in the face hard enough to daze her. He shoved her at Avery and Cray watching coldly as Rotkappchen screamed as the two began to hit her.**

**Gaston Argent watched with a cold smirk.**

**222**

"Why are you showing me this? Stiles asked as he watched the men beat the girl with growing sickness in his stomach. "You wanted to know why? I can't tell you that, why your attackers chose to attack you. I can only tell you it was your fate." Raven said.

The men in the vision began to tear Rotkappchen clothes off once she had been beat to where she almost could hardly move. Stiles saw she still fought them the best she could. He knew it was going to be a losing battle for her in the end. He turned away from the scene as one of the men spread the girl's naked legs as he pulled down his own pants. "I can't watch her…"Stiles trailed off as he heard the sounds of what he feared would happen to her…Happen.

"The past is the past, legacy." Raven told him Stiles could see a second man take the place of the first. Looking past that he could see Gaston's almost joyful look as he watched the ugly things they did to the girl. "Argent?"

"The Argents have committed many crimes against us…this is but the first. There is a reason for everything, and this is also one of theirs." Raven said from behind Stiles, she trailed the back of her fingers over his cheek, then down to his chin forcing his head back to look at the vision before him. The third man was touching Rotkappchen now like the others had.

"_You can not help her now. She does not need your help."_

_With pity and anger at the sight before Stiles he said, "But I want too."_

"_That is but one of the reasons you were found worthy of Rotkappchen's legacy." Raven said into Stiles ear softly, "Only with knowing the past can it be stopped the future._

_Stiles shook his head. He didn't understand._

_222_

**Pain.**

**Fear.**

**Until tonight, Rotkappchen had never known them. Those men had caused her the worst sort of pain. But it was Gaston that she feared. He stood there watching with those cold eyes and that damned smirk. Because of him her virtue was lat by force, her innocents stripped from her mocking her for even having it. Any respect as a young woman she could have had was gone now. **

**Her honor…was tattered, bruised, but not gone. Never gone. **

**Rotkappchen thought as tears ran down her bruised, swollen face. Their laughter had been harsh and loud. Argent had just stood there with that goddamned smirk on his face! She blinked the one eye that wasn't swollen, closed. The seed of hatred, of vengeance had taken root in her heart.**

**They had to pay…**

**He had to pay…**

"**Hey, Gaston? Time to end it she can't take any more, don't you think?" Cray asked.**

**A dark, evil look crossed Gaston's face making Cray draw back, as Gaston muttered, "Yes, it is," pulling a hunting knife from his boot, walking over to where Rotkappchen lay. She saw him coming and in a last burst of strength tried to get up but only managed to crawl across her cloak staining the once white cloth crimson with her blood.**

**Gaston caught Rotkappchen by her hair; it was now matted with dirt, blood and other bodily fluids, yanking her head back. The look of pure hatred in the girl's eyes made him pause, because for a moment he thought he saw them turn…Gaston shook his head, the moonlight was playing tricks on him, he thought. It was a shame the girl could have been a way for him to get to Hale. **

**Gaston drew the knife across the pale skin of her soft throat.**

**Rotkappchen could feel the sharp kiss of the blade, could feel the warm stickiness of her blood as it ran down over her bare breasts. She tried to breathe but the air wouldn't come, she choked and gasped for life as she lay on the forest floor. **

**Gaston frowned as he watched the girl fight for what little life she had left. He watched as she choked for each gasp of air, her eyes began to close. He leaned down and said into her ear, "Don't worry, I'll make sure Lucy takes care of Sasha for you and that Hale gets everything he deserves."**

**Rotkappchen let out what might have been a sob but was actually a death rattle. Gaston shifted the knife in his hand. He then shoved it into the girl's heart. Her eyes opened in shock from the pain, her eyes closed one last time. Gaston slowly pulled the knife from the girl's body. Throwing the knife carelessly on the ground next to her, Gaston glared at the other men their usefulness to him as almost done.**

"**Don't just stand there! Start digging you fools! She'll be missed in the morning.**

**The other men jumped to do Gaston's bidding. He watched dispassionately as the girl he had courted, who had preferred Sasha and Hale's company to his own, to be buried in a shallow grave.**

**None of them noticed the red, glowing eyes that watched them fro the shadows of the forest.**

**222**

The vision faded away, Stiles blinked and rubbed his eyes wiping the tears that had fallen for Rotkappchen. He turned to the raven-haired woman as she said, "All those of Witchborn blood must meet a violent death. It is what awakes our power. It is the price we pay for that power."

"_I never asked for this power!" Stiles screamed at her. "I never asked to be murdered!"_

_She raised an eyebrow at him, "Do you think Rotkappchen asked for what happen to her? That I asked for what happened to me? Or our sisters?"_

_No. Of course not, Stiles thought._

"_What do I do?" Stiles begged to know for the pain, the rage was consuming his thought. The need to do something…anything to make them pay for what they had done!_

"_You will follow in the footsteps of Rotkappchen, of your blood…only then will it stop." Raven told him knowingly._

_Problem was Stiles had never been much of a follower._

"_The Witchborn who have come before can teach you…If you wish to learn."_

_Stiles thought about that. Knowledge was power, he knew. "I'm not in my right mind, am I? If all of this is stating to make sense."_

"_You came back from the dead, Stiles." Raven said with a dark laugh, "There is always a touch of insanity that goes with that."_

888

Derek came across Erica trying to claw her skin off, literally! He could see the red rash on her arms. Poison Ivy or Oak could affect them so Derek makes sure to keep his distance. True Erica would heal from it in a few hours but itch would be bothersome if spread through the Pack.

Itchy, whiny werewolves were no fun to be around.

"What did you do?" Derek asked the blonde girl, "Roll around in it?" Erica muttered something about Stiles, vines and…(anime porn?) along with what she was going to do to the boy.

A half mile later they found Isaac, the beta was hanging by his wrists from a tree, he wasn't moving. Derek ran up, shifting as he did so and climbed the tree. To his surprise Derek discover the very tree itself was binding the boy's wrists with some smaller branches that were woven around them. Derek could almost feel the magic coming from them as the sliced through the branches with his claws. Isaac dropped and Erica caught him before he could hit the ground. Derek Jumping from the tree to the ground landed next to them, "…Isaac!" He yells as he shook the boy.

Isaac slowly blinked at them, "Sleepy," he muttered closing his eyes again. Derek and Erica exchanged worried looks, as Isaac's eyes snapped open he said, "Derek!"

"Are you okay?" Erica asked.

Isaac nodded and in a small voice said, "Stiles did it."

"What?" Derek asked.

"Stiles used magic to get me in that tree!"

Derek shook his head, "Stiles can barely get mountain ash to work…"

"Well he's been holding out on us!" Isaac exclaimed.

"He's right, Stiles did it. He tangles me up in vines!" Erica paused scratching her arms, "Argent found me and cut me loose just as the vine were getting really friendly! God! Derek it itches!" she whined holding her arms out.

The Alpha rolled his eyes, "I'd be surprised if it didn't. You'll be fine in a few hours."

"Hours!" Erica shrieked.

"Derek," Isaac said slowly, "Stiles didn't look so good when I saw him. He was…it look like someone _beat_ him up pretty badly and he wasn't making a lot of sense… And he was _really angry_ at Scott."

Erica nodded, "He was talking about having been murdered and resurrection." She look at her Alpha, "Derek, Stiles had a _scar_ on his throat as if it had been slashed and then healed up."

Derek frowned as he thought about the shallow grave in that clearing. Something…or someone had crawled out of it. The question was if it had been Stiles or not.

The beta's exchanged a look, "All Stiles was wearing was that large red hoodie of his…I…I…I think he may have been…"she trailed off as if she couldn't bring her self to think that thought let alone say it.

Derek though understood what was unsaid it made Derek growl, he wanted to tear thing apart. The beta's whimpered at their Alpha anger, in sympathy, for their pack mate.

A boy lost in the woods, bad things happen. Blood, death and a miracle? It sounded like something out of a half remembered fairytale, Derek thought, "Let's head back to the house. See if Boyd or the others have found anything new. Peter can look you over," Derek ignored the enraged looks at Peter's name, "My uncle is not that bad," the looks got worse. Derek sighed, "Ok, so he is. Just don't let him talk you out of your clothes and you'll be fine."

"That's not very reassuring," Isaac said getting up. Erica rolled her eyes and kept scratching.

Derek just gave them a look; "I've got to up your training if _Stiles_ got the better of you."

"Magic! Derek." Isaac snarled.

Derek raised an eyebrow turning to make his way home, not listening to the mean things his betas were muttering about him behind his back.

888

John sighed running his hand through his blond hair again. There was nothing more that could be done at the clearing. Everything that could be evidence had been taken. His deputies were shooting him concerned looks at him as more of Stiles clothes were found blood covered.

John was glad Hotch was the led on this. He watched the stern dark-haired man. Aaron Hotchner had retired from the FBI's behavioral unit just shortly after; a suspect from another case he had been working on murdered his wife. Aaron had told John that he couldn't stomach the thought of being a lawyer again. No, matter how good at it he had been. So, Hotch had been a godsend after he had lost half of his deputies earlier this year by a disturbed teen. The job was only supposed to be until John could hire and train some more people. But Aaron liked the small town he thought it would be a good place to raise his own son. So, the job of Under Sheriff had gone to Hotch as soon as he told John he wanted to stay in Beacon Hills. Something John was still grateful for there was on one else John would trust on this case.

Stiles was too important to John. He noticed Hotch glaring at the edge of the clearing. Chris Argent stood there. Hotch shared Stiles dislike of the man it seemed. John made his way over to the weapons dealer.

"Well, Sheriff, I'll say this Stiles is a crafty one," Argent's tone was amused.

"Oh," Why was everyone so surprised when they realized his son was smart? Stiles, was a straight A student on the honor roll. His kid was a boarder line genius even with despite his ADD.

"Your son set a few traps. Using just things in the woods, some of my friends fell for them as well a couple of the teenagers Hale had out looking for Stiles."

John groaned, Stiles was going to be the death of him or the reason the Beacon County Sheriff's department got sued! "Was anyone hurt?"

Laughing Argent shook his head, "Nope, just embarrassed that a seventeen year got the better of them. Has Stiles been found?"

"No, we've gotten reports of a boy matching Stiles description running ran in just a red hoodie." John stopped taking a breath he had not like the implications of that at all. "Hale is suppose to contact me if he finds Stiles or learns any information about who Stiles was with that night.

Argent nodded, telling the Sheriff that he and his hunters would keep looking but with night falling there really wasn't more they could do.

888

Derek got off the phone with Boyd, who had got lost in the woods. Boyd had never been one for the woods when he was human and didn't spend as much time in the woods as the other betas. Boyd said he hadn't seen Stiles but got the feeling of being watched and could swear he heard Stiles laughing. Derek told the boy to go home. After seeing Peter's gee at the chance to play doctor to the betas Derek decided just to call Deaton rather than go to his office. He explained about the situation with Stiles.

"Do you know if he was actually dead or just buried alive? The trauma from being buried alive could be what is effecting Stilinski."

Derek didn't know and told Deaton so with, "But the scent in and around the grave matches Stiles."

"That clearing was there a very large tree stump? Big enough for a couple of grown men to sit on it with room to spare?"

"Yes, why?"

"There are places of power in Beacon Hills. That clearing may be one of them. The real question is if the person or people who attacked Stiles knew that or not." Deaton explained.

'Would that have anything to do with the magic the beta's say Stiles was using? Because we both know Stiles barely had a spark to him."

"Yes, but with time and training Stiles would be able to achieve what you have told me he did."

"Deaton?" Derek asked slowly, "What are the chances that what crawled out of that grave is not Stiles?"

The vet sighed tiredly, "It's Stiles. Even if he did die and come back wrong its Stiles."

"Wrong?" Derek whispered, how could some one die and come back right? "I'll see if Peter knows anything helpful."

"Of course Alpha Hale." Deaton said shortly, after promising to see what he could find as well.

Derek tightened the gripped he had on his phone until he heard a crack, he sighed putting the phone in his pocket. Standing up from the kitchen table he followed the short, sharp, shrill shriek and the sound of running footsteps. Derek found his uncle sitting in the middle of the living room floor rubbing the side of his face.

Peter glared at Derek when he saw him, "Your betas have no sense of humor. I blame you for that."

Derek rolled his eyes, "When you play Uncle Bad Touch? What do you expect?"

Peter gave Derek a considering look before he said, "You've been spending to much time with Stiles. That was almost creative."

Derek was in no mood to banter with Peter. Instead told him about the clearing and about what Erica and Isaac had told him.

"That boy…"Peter murmured, "I knew he was something special." Peter sighed at the glowing red eyes that got turned on him.

Derek didn't understand Peter's admiration of Stiles. Derek had always found Peter and Stiles relationship. Stiles wanted Peter dead but otherwise found him to be an interesting verbal sparring partner and Peter liked to flirt with Stiles. It was strange.

"It sounds vaguely familiar, give me a few hour to see what I can find." Peter told him.

Derek nodded dropping down on to the couch. By the time Peter left the room Derek was asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Witchborn5

222

Haleborne walked though the small town. He had been leery of having his pack settle so close to the town, his pack had humans so being isolated deep in the woods, was not an option. Not that the human members would complain if they had to, they understood Hale's wariness of those who were not pack.

**Hale also knew that he could not take a mate from inside the pack. He was related to many of them by blood or marriage, it was one of the reasons he had why he settled them near to town. He hoped to find a suitable mate and to sell the furs he had as well. He shifted the pack on his shoulder. It had been awhile since he himself had been in town, he wasn't sure who still dealt in fur. He had enough to sell or trade in order to keep his pack in funds and supplies for the winter.**

"**You know, whatever is bothering you can't be that bad." Came the amused familiar voice of Rotkappchen. Hale turned to see her standing next to him; her white cloak was brilliant in the sunlight. Rotkappchen was not a cold beauty like Lucy Argent or his brother Stephen's wife, Kathryn. Rotkappchen was sweet natured although she did have a temper, one Hale had enjoyed rousing when they were children. Her long dark hair was pulled back from her face her figure was womanly in a way that not even her cloak could hide.**

**It was Rotkappchen's eyes that had always captivated Hale the most. Most though they were a normal shade of brown, but more than once Hale had seen them take on a shade that reminded him of a beta's glowing eyes. He knew it to be a trick of the sunlight and shadows. The girl had no wolf blood in her, but it did not stop him from finding her eyes compelling. **

"**It could be that bad." Hale told her raising an eyebrow at her, the light breeze shifted direction carrying her scent to his nose. It was Rosemary, lavender and a hint of honey. They were his favorite scents.**

**A regretful look passed the girl's face, "Oh, how crass of me…your Uncle…"**

**Yes, his uncle, Malcolm had been killed by hunters. Hale had become the Alpha. He was sure the Argents had something to do with it although they would not own up to it.**

"**If your are selling. The Masons are in need of some new furs," Rotkappchen told him, "and the Morell's have medicines they can trade. My father and I could use some new furs as well."**

"**You always know just the information I need." Hale said with a smile. **

**Rotkappchen returned it, when a voice called out to them she turned and cried, "Sasha!" Happily all but throwing herself at the man with long light brown-blonde hair that walked up to them. Sasha was the woodcutter's son, "Sasha," Hale greeted him. Sasha was an old childhood friend as well.**

"**Hale, I wondered when you would wander back into town. We see more of the others in your family, than you."**

**Hale nodded, he wasn't big on coming to town unless he had too.**

"**Oh," Rotkappchen exclaimed, "you can join us on our picnic!"**

"**I wouldn't want to intrude." Hale started, last time he had been in town he was sure Sasha had been about to ask Rotkappchen father for permission to court the girl.**

"**About that," Sasha said to Rotkappchen, "I can't go."**

"**Why not?" She asked.**

"**Well…" Sasha looked away, as if he really didn't want to tell her, "Miss Argent has agreed to go for a walk with me."**

**Hale swallowed a growl at the Argent name.**

"**I see," Rotkappchen, said flatly, "it's not like we haven't had this planned for a week."**

"**Oh, don't be like that…"Sasha muttered.**

**Hale looked between the two uncomfortably, "I'm just going to…"**

"**Go on the picnic with me!" Rotkappchen said suddenly turning a bright smile on Hale that caused all of his thoughts to stop momentarily.**

**Hale blinked, "But…"**

"**Great! You can come and get me in an hour." She said, glaring at Sasha as she left the two men. Hale noticed the slightly fearful look she shot across the street at the dark haired man leaning against the side of the building, Hale wondered how long Gaston Argent had been watching them. Hale looked at Sasha, he had known since they were children that Rotkappchen cared the most for Sasha.**

"**Sasha?"**

"**I don't want to talk about it!" Sasha said coldly, stomping off towards the Argents house. Hale sighed; if he hurried he could see the Masons and the Morells. Maybe the Peacekeeper, Rotkappchen's father would let him keep the rest of his furs at their house while…**

**While he went on a picnic with Rotkappchen, he couldn't stop the smile that came to his face at the thought.**

**222**

The dreamer sighed turning over in their sleep.

222

The picnic with Rotkappchen to Hale's surprise was fun. He had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed the girl's company. Rotkappchen and Sasha had been his companions when they were younger. Though neither knew he was a werewolf. Not because he thought they would betray such a secret but for their own safety.

**Rotkappchen would sometimes give him looks as if she knew what he was, but she had always been strange like that. Knowing things, about things, she should know nothing of. More than once they had escaped trouble with their parents because of that talent.**

**They had talked for hours catching up with each other, Rotkappchen told him about the things I town he had missed, who married, who was courting, who was expecting. He told her of his family, of the places he had seen in his wanderings before his uncle died. When he was walking her home after the picnic Hale knew he just had to ask, "Red…What's with Sasha?"**

"**I don't know!" She said angrily, "Up until a few months ago I thought Sasha wanted to marry me that he returned my feelings."**

**The sudden wave of jealousy at hearing that took the wolf by surprise. **

"…**Then Lucy Argent bats her eyelashes and Sasha goes all…stupid! She came home a year ago and she's been all Sasha can think about." Rotkappchen snarled in an impressive wolf-like way. She sighed, "And now Gaston has asked father for permission to court me."**

**If Hale had been anything other than a wolf he never would have heard the fear in her voice when she said Gaston's name.**

"**Argent?" Hale asked slowly, they had also grown up with the Argents. Lucy had always been cold and selfish girl no matter how beautiful she was and her brother Gaston was worse, petty and arrogant as a boy. **

**They both fell silent until the reached Rotkappchen's home the girl smiled at him and again his lost his thoughts for a moment.**

"**Thank you. For coming on a picnic with me I know you had more important things to do, Haleborne."**

**Hale grimaced at his full name, "Hey! We had a deal. I call you Red instead of…"**

"**Okay, okay!" Rotkappchen said with a laugh, "You're the only one who calls me that though. I have missed you, my friend." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, her scent surrounding him as she did. **

"**Come inside, hopefully Father has chosen the furs he wants." Rotkappchen said going into the house.**

**Hale stood there, how had he never noticed before? That scent…was all of his favorite things…**

"**Hale!"**

**Hale shook himself. Later…he'd think on that later. He followed the girl's call going into the house.**

**222**

The watcher shivered as he watched the vision play out.

222

It had been weeks since Hale had been back to town. He knew it was time…time to claim what was his…but first he had to satisfy the wolf, he had decided to go hunting in his Alpha form, that of a large black four legged wolf. It had taken time and practice to master the form. Hale could take a similar wolf form when he had been a beta although he hadn't been as big then. Most betas too could also take a real wolf form if they practiced the change and were at peace with what they were. But most were stuck with the beta shift form, the half-man, half- wolf form.

**Omegas could never take a real wolf form. **

**Hale growled, from the underbrush at the human males that were in his territory. He had heard the screams of prey early but he hadn't seen what they had killed, he watched as they buried the remains of it. These men should not be killing anything on his land, the wolf thought his eyes glowing red. The scent of Argent, blood, and death was enough to turn his stomach painfully.**

**Once the men were gone, Hale made his way to the shallow grave. He sniffed around it and gagged, for under the scent that the men left behind there was…Rosemary, lavender, and honey?**

'**No!' the wolf thought, it couldn't be…but scents don't lie. **_**Rotka—**_**Hale cut that thought off with a howl of rage.**

**Under the light of the full moon, the howls of a black wolf, which had melted into the form of a naked man, screaming in grief, "I'll kill them! I'll bring you their hearts, Red. I swear it!" He snarled, fangs flashing dangerously in he moonlight, "All shall know what I do is in the name of Rotkappchen!"**

**Hale's rage and grief overwhelmed him so much that it startled him when a pale dirt covered hand burst though the ground out of the shallow grave.**


	6. Chapter 6

Witchborn6

Derek woke with a start the remnants of his dream haunted him. For once he didn't dream of fire but of pale skin, blood stained white cloaks and the howls of his brethren. Moments later he heard the slamming of the front door and a male voice yelling it sounded like… Jackson?

Jackson Whittmore was an emotional hot head; but he really hadn't caused any strife among the pack once he accepted Derek as his Alpha. Derek sighed rolling off the couch to his feet. Jackson had Scott backed into a corner, he was growling, shifting when he said, "Why weren't you with Isaac?!"

Scott glared at Jackson before his gaze shifted to the dark-haired girl next to him. Jackson caught the look, "Are you kidding me? Did you really," he sputtered then caught sight of Derek, turning away from Scott told him, "Lydia and I think we got something...we think?"

"What?"

"A couple of skanks were bragging about what they heard," Lydia said, standing next to Allison, her voice cold with rage, " Said skanks told some others…It's not a sure thing though, Derek. I'm so going to…"

"Lydia," Derek cut off the strawberry blonde's rant before it could get started, "What did you do?"

"Oh, I promised to make their high school lives miserable. Then I texted the information to the Sheriff's department about who they should talk with."

Jackson turned back to Scott, "Why weren't you at the bonfire, Scott?"

"I was there!" Scott snarled.

Jackson eyed him, "Really? Because I don't remember you being there, what I _do_ remember is Stiles looking for you."

"Yeah," Erica said walking into the room with Isaac, the rash on her arms from earlier gone. "He pouted for about an hour before going off to get drunk I think? Me and Boyd left shortly after that he had a curfew."

"He sent me some text about howling at the moon," Isaac said, he hadn't gone but stayed home to finish up some summer school homework.

Derek nodded, "Stiles had been sending me annoying texts all day…they stopped around midnight. I thought he just went to bed or something," his voice was pained.

"Come to think of it, "Lydia said turning to her best friend, "Where were you?"

Allison looked away, "I had a family thing."

Derek blinked when he heard her heart stutter. Did she really think she could get away with lying to them?

Scott blinked, "You did? Why didn't you tell me? I would have stayed at the bonfire…"he trailed off at Allison's half-hearted glare.

"You were with Allison?" Derek asked, he knew Stiles and Scott's friendship had some set backs lately but he had thought they had been worked out.

"She's my girlfriend. I wanted to spend time with her."

"You couldn't do that and spend time with Stiles." Isaac asked.

Scott blushed, "It was a date," he whispered.

Erica snorted, "Did this date take place in the back seat of her car?"

Scott suddenly found the floor very interesting.

"That's not a date," Lydia said.

"No," Jackson snarled, "It's a fuck."

"And as we all know," Peter's voice came coldly from the doorway he was leaning on, "nothing good ever comes from fucking an Argent." It was a telling thing when no one disagreed with the man.

"Peter," Derek warned. His uncle rolled his eyes, straightened up from the doorframe and walked in to the kitchen muttering about how he shouldn't have gone for the easy prey.

"Hey," Scott cried, "Don't talk about Allison that way, Jackson!" Ignoring what Peter had said completely.

"He wasn't." Lydia said examining her nails carefully.

"He was talking about you, Scott!" Derek fumed, eyes going red. This moron had thought of his own selfishness before his friend…before Stiles. Derek could not stand to look at the boy for a moment longer; he walked past the pack into the kitchen. He could hear Scott whining that they were being mean to him. Derek sat down at the table across from Peter, who wordlessly pushed a cup of coffee in front of him.

Derek could hear the voice in his head, it sounded a lot like Stiles, telling him not to trust anything that could be poisoned from Peter. But the moment he smelled it he just didn't care, he picked up the cup.

"Did you know that the story of Red Ridding Hood is true, Derek?"

Derek hadn't, although he had heard many versions of it as a child.

"The true one is much darker than you think. Little Red is far more dangerous than the wolf or the woodcutter…Long ago there were a people who were connected to werewolves some believed they were druids. They weren't there connection is older than her…Legend says Lycan took one as a mate. We called them Reds in honor of the one of the most legendary of them. They were powerful and like all those with power others wanted it for their own. So they came up with a way to hide it. So it could only be awaken in their kind in certain way. Blood must be shed for them to awaken or so the stories go."

A chill went down Derek's spine.

"It is said they are only bound by what they can not imagine. One day a Red was so trespassed against that in the last moments of her life she begged for vengeance on those that harmed her." Peter paused at a noise, Derek turned and saw the pack, minus Scott and Allison, slink into the kitchen. They all looked enthralled at the story his uncle was weaving. Peter had always been good at telling stories.

"They say the girl rose from her grave insane, and took her revenge. That only the love of a wolf and the courage of a woodcutter saved her. That the woodcutter went on to be a feared hunter, and the girl married the wolf becoming the secret weapon of the pack."

"You don't believe that though, do you Peter?" Lydia asked sounding convinced of it.

Peter shrugged giving the girl a dark smile, "I believe the Red dug their way out of a grave, the insanity, the need for revenge to strong to ignore," Peter looked at Derek, "So the Red seduced a wolf into becoming a tool for their vengeance. The Red scorn the woodcutter who betrayed them with the hunter…"

That was sounding far to familiar for Derek's comfort," You're not talking about a legend anymore, are you?" Derek asked warily.

Peter got up from the table he paused at the doorway, "Aren't I?" Then left to the rest of the pack's relief.

Derek slowly looked at each member of his pack, "Peter is not to be alone with Stiles," though he wasn't sure why, it just seemed like a bad idea, "Not for any reason."

888

Stiles blinked, looking around the dark forest he saw a very large stump, in the middle of a clearing that was surrounded by yellow and black police tape. He was back where it started, his rage was almost a physical thing now Stiles thought he could touch it, feel it roll off of him in waves it was that powerful.

He curled up on the stump, his back to the shallow grave, he closed his eyes, in moments he as asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Witchborn7

Aaron Hotchner walked toward the clearing it was his latest crime scene. The case had started as a simple missing person's case. As if anything can be simple when it involves Stiles Stilinski. Stiles hadn't come home three days ago after attending a bonfire throw by some local teenagers to morn the on coming of fall and the return of school. With the discovery of the shallow grave and Stiles bloody clothes found in the surrounding area, the case looked like it took a turn for the worst. Finding those things was never a good thing in Hotch's experience.

When he got to the clearing he could see, the large stump in the middle of it. He could see a male figure dressed in a large red hoodie laying on it.

"Stiles?" Hotch said, not wanting to startle the boy.

Stiles turned over facing Hotch, he rubbed his eyes yawning making him look all of five years old rather than the seventeen he was. Stiles smiled sleepily, "Hey, G-man! How are the Professor and Little J?"

Hotch's lips twitched at the nicknames for himself, his son and Spenser, "They're fine. Worried about you though. We all are."

"Oh,"

Hotch slowly reached for his radio saying, "I'm going to call for some help for you, that okay?"

Stiles frowned, slowly nodding. Hotch made the call for an ambulance and request that the sheriff meet them at the hospital. He made the call quickly, not wanting the boy to spook and bolt back into the woods. But Stiles attention was focused on the shallow grave marked with small white flags.

Hotch tried to distract the boy by saying, "The ambulance will have a hard time getting here. Why don't we head to the Preserve entrance?" Stiles eyes never left the spot of the grave, his eyes growing wide with horror. "Stiles? Did you hear me?"

Stiles turned to Hotch in confusion, the horrified look went deep, in a small voice he asked," I got hurt, didn't I?"

Hotch nodded slowly, "We think so."

Stiles rubbed a hand over his face mumbling, "I don't like it here. I want to leave now," he got off the stump avoiding the grave.

"Then let's leave." Hotch said softly as he carefully took Stiles arm, which the boy allowed, and lead him from the clearing.

888

Derek ran down the hospital corridor, he almost hadn't believed the text Scott had sent him. Stiles had been found. It was at times like this Derek was thankful that Scott's mother was a nurse. He could hear Stiles shouting angrily, "NO, NO! I DON"T REMEMBER! Asking the same question in a DIFFERENT WAY WON"T HELP ME."

Derek heard the Sheriff's reply, "Now son, Hotch is only trying to help."

"NO!" Stiles was practically howling, "I'm not doing this anymore! GO AWAY!"

Derek got to the room in time to see two men leave the dark haired said something about going back to the station and left. Derek watched the Sheriff run a hand through his blonde hair, he then noticed Derek.

"Hale?"

"How is he?" Derek asked.

The Sheriff sighed, "He's bruised, dehydrated…"

"Erica and Isaac saw him in the woods but couldn't stop him. They think because his lack of dress and the way his was acting that he might have been…" Derek trailed off.

"No, there was no evidence of rape, but there _is _a strange scar on his throat," The Sheriff swallowed hard, "As if it had been slashed and as been healed up for years! Something happened to my son in those woods, Hale. Even if he can remember it."

"He can't…"

Sheriff Stilinski nodded his head, "The doctor say that trauma could have caused the memory lost. As much as I would like for Stiles to never to remember…He **needs** to because there is no doubt in my mind he that he wasn't attacked." The Sheriff then asked Derek, "Do you want to see him?"

Derek shook his head. He wanted too…but… "He needs rest," Derek told the Sheriff, "And you. I'll see him later." With that Derek turned walking back down corridor to the elevator. Just before the doors closed Derek thought heard the mournful howl of a wolf.

888

Hospital beds had to be the most uncomfortable beds ever! A bed of nails had to be softer, Stiles thought as he turned over away from his dad, who was asleep in the chair next his bed.

"_Do you understand yet, legacy?" Golden asked._

_Stiles shook his head. He had an idea but, "Was Rotkappchen, Haleborne's mate?"_

"_She is as she always was, the only thing he desired, all that he needed."_

_Scarlet appeared beside the blonde, "The wolf can be our sanity…We remind them that there is more than the animal inside. When we, the Witchborn come into our power, we lose ourselves…to our need for vengeance."_

"_We all do, for a time," Raven said as a wolf melted out of the shadows to stand next to her. The wolf was a large male with wheat gold colored fur, its eyes were a green that seemed to glow in the low light. Stiles could hear the clash of swords and smell the sea in the air. _

"_If our wolf is strong," Scarlet whispered petting the gray fur of a delicate looking female wolf with shimmering blue eyes. Stiles could feel silk against his skin and hear the elegant music playing._

"_They can call u back," The wolf next to Golden growled deeply, it was a male with long, shaggy brownish-red fur and eyes that glowed a bright red. Stiles could hear the beating of drums and war cries in the distance._

Stiles blinked he could see the three women reflected in the glass of the window. Their eyes were no longer that light shade of brown that could turn beta gold in the light. Their eyes were dark now… Stiles smiled when he was his own reflection in the window. His eyes were a black as a starless, moonless, night.

"Are you alright, son?" His dad's voice asked.

Stiles blinked. The window now reflected the room and nothing more.

"Yeah, dad," Stiles said turning over to face him, Stiles eyes were normal. "I will be…" he closed his eyes, for tomorrow was a new day.

Tomorrow will be the start of his vengeance.

888

**AN: That's the end of Witchborn. Look for Witchborn: Stiles Revenge coming soon to a near you!**


End file.
